I Crave You - C.C. Wood Page 0,1

lobster linguine which also happened to cost more than anything else except for the steaks.

“Cam,” he whined.

“Keep it up and I’ll order a steak just to spite you.”

“Okay, okay. Torino’s tomorrow.”

I took a step back and leaned against the wall as J.J. darted out the door. I tried to ignore the sounds of Brody hurling up all the whiskey he’d consumed but it was difficult.

Finally, after one final spasm, he groaned and collapsed on his ass.

“This sucks,” he moaned.

“For both of us, I’m sure,” I shot back.

Brody twisted and his gaze landed on me. “Who are...“ he trailed off, squinting at me and tilting his head. “Shit, Cami, I didn’t recognize you.”

I nearly rolled my eyes but refrained. Didn’t recognize me? He’d known me since I was eight for crying out loud.

“I clean up okay,” I replied dryly.

My sarcasm flew right over his head. Brody hauled his body up and stood on weak legs. Since he was wearing only a thin dress shirt and snug tuxedo trousers, I could see that his once somewhat lanky frame had filled out. And then some.

Brody staggered over to the sink and rinsed his mouth out with water. Then he reached into the little Dopp kit on the counter next to him and withdrew a toothbrush and small tube of toothpaste.

I tried not to watch as his broad shoulders flexed beneath the fine material of his shirt. Or stare at the way his ass filled out his pants. Damn, he no longer resembled the teen boy I’d crushed so hard on. He was a man.

Brody Murphy was a nice-looking male specimen, despite his jerky ways.

Once his teeth were brushed, he rinsed his mouth with some mouthwash he’d pulled out of the kit, splashed his face with cool water, and grabbed a handful of paper towels to dry off.

Only then did he look at me and say, “You always looked more than okay to me.”

I cocked my head and crossed my arms over my chest but said nothing. Well, not aloud. I let my face do all the talking in this case.

Brody mimicked my gesture, leaning his hips back against the counter. If I hadn't witnessed him doing the technicolor yawn a few minutes ago, I wouldn't even know that he was wasted. “What? You think I’m lying?”

“Uh, yes. Yes, I do. I mean, you are the one who started calling me Flatty Cami my freshman year.”

Brody scoffed. “How many times do I have to tell you I had nothing to do with that? And that was six years ago! Why won’t you let it go?”

“Maybe I just like holding a grudge.”

Brody laughed. “You’ve always had a contrary streak.”

That might be true but he had no business commenting on it.

“So, why did you decide your wedding day was a good time to get trashed?” I asked, changing the subject with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

Brody blinked at me and, for a split second, he looked almost vulnerable. Then the wall slammed down and his expression turned nonchalant.

“Just celebrating a little too much, a little too early.”

I stepped forward until only a couple of feet separated us. “It seems to me that the urge to get trashed out of your mind is a big ole warning sign.”

“Maybe that’s what it seems to you but I am not you.”

I studied his implacable expression and nearly gave up. But I thought of J.J. and how much he admired Brody. How he loved him like the brother he never had and how he wanted the best for him.

So instead of keeping my mouth shut like I should have, I said, “If you think this is a mistake, there’s still time to stop it.”

“What’s a mistake?” Brody asked, his dark green eyes locked on mine. He looked intent, as though he were hanging on my every word but he was acting like he had no idea what I was talking about.

“The wedding, Brody.”

“Why would I want to call it off?” he asked but I could hear the bitterness in his voice. “I mean, it’s the happiest day of my life, right?”

“Is it?”

He stared at me, his eyes turning hard. “Why exactly do you think I’m unhappy on my wedding day?”

“Because men in love don’t feel the need to drink themselves into a stupor the hours leading up to the walk down the aisle,” I replied.

Brody continued to stare at me without speaking. I could almost see that bright mind of his working behind his eyes but he never had